"Bugger the bit of bone," Gord said, grabbing the wand and tossing it into the dust. "That sort of stuff we can always get, but good men like you are irreplaceable."
Dohojar was embarrassed and delighted all at once. "Oh, no. I am of no importance at all, but I am very glad the Zehaab Captain thinks well of me."
Barrel, Post, and Smoker appeared on the scene, looking left and right in amazement. Now that the dust had mostly settled again, they could see the shapes of a pair of dead dustfish in the vicinity and two others being eaten by the hungry lizards farther off. All three of them spoke virtually at once, asking what had happened. Then Dohojar, Delver, and Gord chimed in simultaneously, each trying to tell his version of the events. Seconds later Shade came up as well and immediately began demanding to know the details.
The others didn't seem to mind the cacophony of voices, but it was too much for Gord. "As captain of this band," he shouted, "I call for silence!" The clamor subsided. "That's better. Dohojar, tell what happened to you. When he's finished, boys, Delver and I will fill you in on the action we fought. Then it'll be your turn to account – Smoker, Barrel, Post, and then Shade because he came in last."
The retelling of the fight with the dustfish was becoming a contest of exaggeration when a waddling, hissing gwahasti intervened. The big lizard was coming for its ration of salted water, and behind it were six more. One of the lizards had been killed by the dustfish as it attacked the things, but that was a part of life – and death – in the Ashen Desert. Dohojar, grinning, went to care for the reptiles, and the other six travelers watched in happy amazement as the gwahasti in order from largest to smallest opened their toothy maws to receive a squirt of the saline solution they craved. "Is that what brought them back?" Shade asked.
"Sure thing, fellow," the Changa replied, "but don't you have any curiosity about why they left us?"
"Damn lizards ran off to get water, o' course," Delver growled. It was a guess on the dwarfs part, but an accurate one – as Dohojar, his mystery spoiled, confirmed in a grumpy tone.
"Let's get going, then," said Gord. "We could all use a drink ourselves, eh, boys?"
"Not yet, Zehaab," Dohojar cautioned. "The gwahasti will want to sleep now." And sleep they did, refusing to be roused until the sun was an hour high on the horizon. That gave the group time to get their camp equipment in order, and Gord was happy to find that the tough, gwahasti-hide tents were relatively undamaged from their encounter with the dustfish.
The lizards, watered and satiated with enough food to last them for days, were slow and moved with a lot of hissing and grumbling as they carried their riders to the place where they had found water. None of the travelers minded the delay, though. These creatures had done far more than simply return to lead them to water – the gwahasti had most assuredly saved men, half-elf, and dwarf from being eaten by the monstrous millipedes.
"I don't suppose I'll ever be able to love those musty-smelling blasters," Smoker said with feeling, "but I'll sure as hell have a fond spot in my heart for all gwahasti from now on!" Everyone laughed at that and chimed in with their own expressions of appreciation, and the trek to the waterhole was a cheerful ride.
The place was a deep pool that had formed in a rocky pocket. It was fed from a spring that bubbled up from the strata of stone below, keeping the water clear and fresh despite constant infusions of dust and ash. The latter came from a huge volcano, just dimly visible on the far horizon, scores of miles distant but still close enough. The travelers knew then that they had finally come within sight of the Inferno Peaks, and the worst of their journey was over. By riding directly toward the smoking cone for all of the next day, the seven were at the foothills of the range of volcanic peaks and jagged ridges before dark. The next morning they turned the lizards to the north, skirting the worst ground as they sought a likely-looking way to get through the rugged mountains.
"There!" boomed Delver after a few hours of searching. "That defile is the way we must take." The others were willing to trust the dwarfs instincts, and besides that they were very anxious to leave the Ashen Desert behind. Gord was as hopeful and excited as any of them, but decided they could all spare a couple of hours in the interest of caution and safety. He directed Delver and Smoker to try the pass, traveling into the mountains for an hour and then returning. In the meantime, everyone else unloaded the gwahasti and, since it was close to midday, allowed them to burrow in for their customary slumber.
The lizards were still resting when Smoker and the dwarf returned. "It looks like a good route, captain, at least as far as we could see," reported Smoker. "Believe me, you're going to like walking on solid ground again. The dwarf seems to know his stuff."
"You don't have to tell me that," said Gord with a sidelong glance and a smile in Delver's direction, remembering the way the stocky little warrior had helped him handle the dustfish. "Well, let's pack ourselves up and be gone from this hellish place."
Taking all they could carry and leaving non-essentials such as their riding gear behind, the seven of them bade the still-sleeping lizards a fond farewell and hiked up the good, hard stone of the pass. Only Dohojar seemed moist of eye at parting with the reptiles, and that lasted only briefly. Soon, however, the rock became less wonderful to tread upon, and the wind off the peaks above blew cold. The nature of their difficulties had changed, but their hardship was far from over. Everyone was quite exhausted by sunset, when they came across a good-sized rock overhang and made camp for the night. The main topic of talk around the fire, of course, was how hard it had been to trudge up the slopes with all their gear on their backs.
"I'll admit it wasn't easy," said Gord, "but you all talk as though your packs were filled with lead. Are you sure you left all your unneeded stuff behind?"
That was the sort of remark the others had been waiting to hear. Barrel looked at Gord with a sly grin and said, "Cap'n, with due respect, it's high time you started carryin' your share of the load!"
Gord could hardly believe his ears. "What are you talking about?" he asked, too amazed at the statement to be angry.
Post stood nearby, grinning, and the others gathered round upon overhearing the exchange. Barrel dug into his makeshift pack and took out a small but obviously heavy bundle. "Drag your stuff out too, boys," he called, "and we'll make Cap'n Gord tote his lot from now on!" As the others began rummaging in sacks and backpacks, not one of them spoke a word to the young man. At a signal from Barrel, everyone opened their parcels and displayed the contents… and then Gord understood.
"You pack of pilferers looted the temple!" he said with a mixture of surprise and relief.
"This is nothing to compare with the stuff we actually hauled out, Gord," Smoker confided. "We had to leave behind the bulkier things bit by bit as we lost the pack beasts. Still, I suppose it isn't a bad bit of pay for our slave labor – and your freeing us. If you'll divvy it into ten equal shares, we'll be honored, sir."
After voicing a moderate protest, Gord got to work. The haul included almost a hundred of the golden wheels that were the coin of the lost realm of Suel, some loose gems, some ornate jewelry, and a variety of small things such as statuettes, carved ivory seals, little boxes, and so on. It was difficult to be exact, but the young thief felt comfortable with the result when he finished a few minutes later. "That's the lot of it. And here I thought you were accusing me of dereliction of duty…"